


Say Hi to Your Lizard Boyfriend

by grunge_mermaid



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Lower Decks (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Julian is lonely and mopey, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grunge_mermaid/pseuds/grunge_mermaid
Summary: After being forced to go on a romantic vacation/medical conference alone, a mopey Julian hitches a ride on the USS Cerritos and is reunited with a former patient.(includes not-super-graphic references to the Lower Decks Harvongian shape-changer incident)(this is my first fic, I promise to get better at tagging)
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	Say Hi to Your Lizard Boyfriend

The medical conference on Casperia Prime had been very enlightening and very, very dull. The Federation’s brightest minds excitedly sharing their findings with the only other people in the universe who could possibly find it as interesting as they do can only hold one’s attention for so long. Especially on a pleasure planet that makes Risa look puritanical. To make it worse, Julian had been forced unexpectedly to make the trip alone. This trip was supposed to double as a romantic vacation—the first they would have had since the war ended five years ago and was only happening because Julian _had_ to attend this conference—but the universe had other ideas.

One week of constant reminders of his cancelled plans—dinner reservations, hot springs excursions, couples massages—really took the fun out of presenting a paper on his newfound cure for the Blight.

At least he was finally headed home. The USS Cerritos was passing through the Casperia system on its way to Deep Space Nine, so Julian hitched a ride. It would only get him about halfway home, but it was a start. And much better than three days on a crowded sub-warp transport shuttle.

After transporting on board and reporting in to the captain, Julian made his way to the guest quarters. He would only be on board for 24 hours and could really use a good night’s sleep on the first Federation mattress he’s seen in years, but after a week alone he was craving company. He changed into some clean clothes and found the bar fairly easily (starship designers really did like their universal layouts). Settling in with a pint of halfway decent synthale, he took out his PADD to start composing a message.

_What’s the point?_ Julian thought, running a weary hand over his greying beard. _He won’t read it…_

He shoved the PADD back into his pocket and moped over his drink. He was on his third when four boisterous young officers entered the bar. He envied their unjaded exuberance and optimism. And their friendship. It had been a long time since he had been able to spend time with his friends in person or even had the energy to do so after a long shift even if he _had_ been able to see them. Normally, someone would pointedly remind him that all of his friends are just one subspace call or a quick shuttle journey away, but that someone wasn’t here.

The young human woman was telling some outrageous story that her friends clearly didn’t believe, but were listening raptly regardless. There was something so familiar about her, but the memory was just out of reach…

“Oh, come on, Beckett,” the purple-haired ensign rolled his eyes, “you really expect us to believe that you conned Internal Affairs into believing that you—”

“Beckett?” Julian swivelled around on his bar stool. “Lieutenant Beckett Mariner?”

“Who’s asking?” She grabbed her drink off the bar and turned to face him. “Oh…”

The last time they had seen each other was at Quark’s, just before the war ended. Countless battles, endless lists of the war dead he hadn’t been able to save constantly scrolling through his head, losing so many friends…none of it was as traumatic as watching a Harvongian shape-changer devouring an ensign in front of her best friend. It may have taken him a second to place her, but the memory of her sitting in the bar covered in blood and viscera, nearly catatonic was seared into his brain forever. But tonight, it took less than a second for her eyes to go from surprise to fear to detached cool.

“Heya, Doc! How’s it goin’? And it’s ensign now.”

The Orion woman looked at Mariner, then Julian, then back to Mariner, her eyes widening. “You knew Beckett when she was a lieutenant on the Quito?” She squeaked, practically vibrating with excitement. “What was she like? Did she follow any of the rules? How did she get demoted? Tell. Us. EVERYTHING!”

“We crossed paths briefly on DS9,” Julian said diplomatically. If her friends didn’t know, he wasn’t going to be the one to tell them and he wasn’t the type to drag others down into his bad mood cesspool. Well, not intentionally. So he pasted on a smile and gave both women a mischievous look.

“But that is a good question: how _did_ you get demoted, Mariner?”

Mariner rolled her eyes, clearly relieved. Instead of answering the question, she introduced everyone. “That’s Tendi. She’s a lot but we love her anyway. That’s Rutherford, our resident cyborg, and this wet blanket here is Boimler.” Boimler tried to object but Mariner didn’t give him a chance.

“And this is Dr Julian Bashir, best genetically enhanced doctor in the fleet. So, Doc, where’s your lizard boyfriend?”

“He’s not my…” Julian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly remembering Mariner teasing him relentlessly about Garak shortly before the shape-changer incident. She had seen them arguing passionately in a dark corner of the bar when she arrived, and she _definitely_ saw Garak grasp Julian’s shoulders as he departed, letting his hands linger just a little too long as he sidled out behind the doctor’s chair. Thinking back on this moment, Julian now understood why Mariner had rejected his advances with cheeky comments about his lizard boyfriend. Her friends had been late so she spent her wait needling him in the most charming way but never giving him a chance to deny anything.

“He’s on Bajor helping to facilitate the repatriation of Cardassian orphans.”

Tendi gasped. “That’s so…SWEET!”

It was refreshing to meet someone so idealistic for a change, but he was tired and talking about Garak just made him feel worse. It really didn’t help that they kept trying to wheedle information about pre-Cerritos Mariner out of him, keeping dark memories simmering on the surface. He answered as best he could considering they had only chatted briefly before that evening had taken a dramatic turn. He tried to match the tone of the banter but the more they asked, the harder it was not to directly mention the incident at Quark’s.

Fortunately, Mariner was more adept at sudden topic changes than he was. Unfortunately, it was always a quip about Garak.

“Did your lizard boyfriend make this for you?” Mariner flicked the cuff of Julian’s shirt. Like most of his clothes these days, the lustrous silk garment had a wide, asymmetrical neckline that showed a daring amount of clavicle even by human standards. On Cardassia he’d be downright indecent, but he had packed for a romantic vacation not for attending a meeting of the Cardassian Assembly.

“Yes, he did, and he’s not my boyfriend—”

“Are you sure? He dresses you kinda slutty for Not Your Boyfriend.”

Bashir downed his fourth drink while ordering another. This was going to be a very long 24 hours.

***

The ship docked at one of the lower pylons. Deep Space Nine was full of ghosts for Julian—all of his friends had left, Garak’s Clothiers was still empty the last time he passed through, even Kira was gone now—but after the longest day of his life on board the Cerritos, he was thankful to be disembarking regardless of where.

He had spent most of the trip helping Tendi and Rutherford recalibrate tricorders in sickbay. Although just a passenger on this trip, he was determined to be useful and begged Dr. T’Ana to assign him any sort of grunt work she could just so he wasn’t sitting alone in his quarters, thinking.

He admired the young ensigns’ enthusiasm and their untarnished views of Starfleet, but they were far too energetic for him in his current mood. Between that and Mariner’s constant badgering about Garak (was her only assignment that day to hunt him down and make wisecracks about his personal life?), it might actually be nice to have a couple of days of peace and quiet on the station before continuing his journey home.

Julian was reading a message on his PADD as he headed for the airlock. He was so engrossed in the unending novel he had just received that he didn’t notice Mariner fall into step beside him as he rounded the corner.

“Say hi to your lizard boyfriend for me!” She whispered.

That was the last straw. Stopping in the junction of the corridors, he snapped. “FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE, MARINER, HE’S NOT MY LIZARD BOYFRIEND! HE’S MY LIZARD HUSBAND!"

The corridor fell silent. Julian looked around to see several officers frozen between ship and station, slack-jawed at his outburst. Mariner failed to contain a snort, her eyes dancing with glee.

But there, standing in the station corridor next to the airlock, was a slightly bewildered Garak, ocular ridge raised and the teensiest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Julian cleared his throat and scratched his head awkwardly. “I m-I-I mean he’s… _ahem_ … he’s my husband.”

Mariner rolled her eyes and affectionately patted Julian on the shoulder, giving him a slight nudge towards the airlock, before heading off down the corridor cackling.

Trying to reclaim some semblance of composure, Julian strode over to his husband and gave him a rather chaste kiss on the cheek—the most Garak would permit in public—before taking his hand.

“Hello there! I thought you weren’t due to leave Bajor until Friday?” He asked cheerfully, trying to pretend nothing had just happened.

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks, my dear, the least I could do was take one day to greet my simian husband.”

**Author's Note:**

> Even though Mariner's rank of ensign is clear in the flashback in "Cupid's Errant Arrow," I've made the executive decision to ignore that. In my head, the Harvongian shape-changer incident was the catalyst for her shift from model officer to the Beckett we all know and love today.


End file.
